


The First Night (Tony)

by IronHeart (ConsultingCommunist)



Series: Whiskey Lullaby [3]
Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-17 15:23:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsultingCommunist/pseuds/IronHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of the Whiskey Lullaby series; Tony breaks down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Night (Tony)

**Author's Note:**

> Just to warn you now, this is the last part.

Tony leaned against the pillar of the porch, stunned, hurt, and on the verge of tears. _Why didn’t he tell me he was coming? I would have been ready, would have thrown him a party or something._ Does it really matter though? He still cheated. He cheated on Steve and it was his own fault he had been caught. He stared out in the direction Steve had left, unable to move from the porch until the sky was dark and he had to stumble to the front door, being careful to make it inside safely. 

As soon as he got inside, he realized his guest had left. What was his name? It didn’t matter. He was just a guy, just someone Tony picked up for the night. Speaking of picking up, Tony grabbed the bottle of whiskey he had stashed in the cabinet and went back up to the bedroom to drink himself into a stupor. He remembered a night much like this one, only with a different kind of ache in his heart.

_Tony opened the front door and looked around the house. Around their house. The house he would have to spend two lonely years in, no Steve by his side. How had he ever managed to live without him before this?_

_He tried to occupy himself, he really did. Tried to get some work done. But all he could think about was Steve, and how he’d be gone for two years. Two years seemed like an eternity to Tony. He had been stuck like glue to Steve ever since they met, and when Steve told him that he loved him, Tony’s heart melted and he finally was able to admit the same to him. But that was ages ago, years ago. Now Steve was gone, serving his country, and Tony was left alone in their house to be strong while the man he loved was facing death on a daily basis._

_He only made it about 3 hours before he picked up the bottle. Tony was an alcoholic before he met Steve, and old habits died hard. So when he picked up the whiskey that night and looked out the window as he sat in their bedroom, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop. At the time it didn’t worry him. He just needed something, anything, to dull the pain of loneliness he felt._

But that was nothing compared to this. That was bad, but this was a crippling feeling, as if his heart had literally been torn from his chest. Because before, he had known Steve would come home, had known it wasn’t a forever kind of loneliness. That’s why he turned to the bottle then, knowing he only needed a quick fix for the two years that Steve would be gone. But now he wasn’t sure when or even if Steve would come back. If the man he loved would ever be able to look at him any more.

_Tony knew he was weak. That was why he had Steve to make him strong. But with him gone, he gave in to his old habits. He would be fine one day, perfectly happy, strong but missing Steve. Then a bad day would hit and his heart would ache terribly, and he would tip back the bottle again, desperate to stop feeling and not have to miss him._

_It was only a matter of time, really. Before Steve, Tony had always equated sex with love. A flawed character trait, but one that had worked to stave off the unhappiness of a loveless life before Steve had changed that. So when drinking started to not be enough, when the pain of loneliness started permeating his heart even through the fog of whiskey, he started picking up the men. He would look for guys who were blonde, well-built, anyone who reminded him of his lover off in the war. It never felt the same; their arms were never strong enough, their hair never quite the same golden shade. And of course, all they gave him was a quick fix of sex, never love._

_Every time one of them would leave, he would feel hollow and empty inside, no happy, loving afterglow like with Steve. Just empty and numb. But that was better than feeling the pain of missing him, so he tolerated it. He did what he could to make it feel like he wasn’t cheating; he only picked up men he was sure were clean, only thought of Steve when he was in bed with them._

But he knew it would kill him one day, that the guilt would build up and he’d have to tell Steve. He’d fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness for being so weak and resorting to such measures. And Steve would’ve been disappointed, but he would have forgiven Tony. Because he knew he was wrong, and he was apologizing. Tony knew that Steve would forgive him for it. But when he came home and found Tony in bed with a man that looked strikingly similar to himself, how could he forgive him now? No, there was no fear in admitting his flaws, but when he tried to hide it, or if he was caught in the act, then there was no saving himself. Steve must be hurting, must be literally dying at the thought of Tony in that other man’s arms. So Tony took another drink, hoping that he might just figure out a way to make this better.


End file.
